


To be nothing

by devo79



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devo79/pseuds/devo79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s strange to sit here and know that nothing he ever does again will matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To be nothing

It’s a relief. To be without purpose. To be useless and unneeded.

He slides his fingers through the dust that’s been gathering on the floor. Draws small patterns. Ends up drawing a picture of a house, a dog and a white picket fence with two trees casting shadows over the surrounding garden.

It’s a relief to just sit there. To be useless and unneeded…by choice.

The sunlight inches it’s way over the floor, making the little house in the dust change color. Turning it from brown to cherry red with little spots of yellow dancing in the ray of light. The small dog looks menacing now as it stands next to the fence he drew.

It’s strange to sit here and know that nothing he ever does again will matter. That, as he sits there, the world is going through its last panicked convulsions, fighting for that last bit of time.

Every second counts when you only have so few left.

So he sits there. Without purpose. And waits. In the distance he hears a cacophony of sirens and screams and wonders what others are doing with their last few seconds of life. Are they holding their loved ones? Looting the unguarded shops? Praying to a god that clearly doesn’t give a shit?

Doesn’t matter. Whatever they’re doing it’s a waste of time. A waste of precious seconds trickling out of cupped fingers, desperately trying to hold in the last few experiences. The last few grains of sand.

He remembers when he truly understood what time is. How time doesn’t go but just keeps coming. Rewinding itself continuously. Forever and ever. And how he only holds a tiny fraction of it. How his little fraction is limited and can’t be renewed. Every second, every minute means one less second, one less minute for him to be.

He looks at the window and stands up. His body feels ancient. Every bone heavy, every muscle aching. There’s only a few more seconds to go. He can feel it under his skin. The heat from the fire burning its way through every atom in the universe and he smiles. Tilts his head back and blinks up at the ceiling, watches as it disintegrates and becomes a cloud of dust.

His skin is on fire now as he slowly dissolves and it’s a relief.

To be nothing.


End file.
